The Fallen Mountain
by DahliaStarr
Summary: The Tribe of Rushing Water have never failed in surviving the harshest conditions of their homeland. But now, generations after the Clans have all but forgotten them, the cats of the mountains face a new threat; one that has left their ancestors hopeless and the Tribe on their own to face what will be their ultimate undoing: a winter that never ends.
1. Prologue

**I know, I know, I'm an utterly terrible person. I have failed my promise of updating **_**A Symphony of Secrets**_** (which, let's face it, will probably never be updated again) and of keeping up with **_**Illusions**_** (rest assured, I'm not giving THAT one up anytime soon!). This idea has just been bugging me for a while and so I have finally decided to write it. **

**It takes place in the Tribe of Rushing Water, because I feel like they don't get enough recognition of how awesome they are (until you have managed to live inside a water fall, you can't say differently). This takes place quite a few years after Stormfur and Brook and their children passed away, so there will be entirely new characters, except for two, which you will see when I post the character list.**

**My utmost thanks and gratitude to ShoutFinder, for helping me with the names and the basic plot line. I hope I do your kitty justice! (If you haven't read her story **_**Daughter of the sun**_**, read it. Now. Well, after you read this, of course ;D)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Tribe, or the Warrior series in general.**

0o0o0

It was dark in the clearing, the moon shrouded by clouds encroaching on the distant horizon. Only weak rays of light managed to shine through the nearly imperceptible crevices of the large gray masses that menacingly stalked the sky.

The area was empty of any forms of life, except for one figure crouching in the center. No wind stirred its long fur and its pelt was such a deep gray, one could simply miss it altogether. Milky blue eyes watched the overcast sky above, holding a certain unfathomable depth that would certainly make another uncomfortable.

A rustling sound pricked the ears of the cat. It titled its narrow head in the direction of the noise, the light catching the deep scar that lined its throat. It blinked its clouded eyes and slowly straightened from its pose.

"You've certainly kept me waiting long enough."

The newcomer, a large tabby, let out a rumbling purr. "In all the moons I have known you, Leap, I have never once kept you waiting." His broad paws carried him soundlessly until he stood in front of the she-cat. He bowed his head and the movement caused his transparent pelt to shimmer, his entire body faded from time. The only bright thing about him was his eyes, green and sparkling with playful mischief.

Leap of Startled Fish scoffed. "Then why does it seem like I've been sitting here like a bags of bones waiting for you for seasons, Claw?"

"I think you're just getting more impatient the older you get," Claw of Diving Heron teased, flicking his half of a tail in her direction.

"Are you calling me old?" the dark gray she-cat exclaimed, indignant.

"Of course not." Claw glanced at her and then quickly looked away. "Though your pelt says differently," he added softly, a slight hitch in his voice.

Leap looked down at her fur, grimacing when she noticed she could see through it to the grass underneath her. "It has been a while since I've looked at myself." She sighed wearily. "I've been here for more seasons than I care to remember. It's about time those moons caught up with me."

They sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until the sound of a new arrival alerted them. Both turned to see a stocky blue-gray tom walking towards them, his scarred pelt slightly more solid than those of the two older cats. His yellow eyes narrowed when he saw Leap and Claw simply waiting.

"Where are the others?" he demanded, his voice scratchy and rough.

Claw dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Greetings, Fall. To answer your question, they haven't joined us yet. Obviously."

Fall of Splashing Water ignored the tabby's scorn, instead letting out an impatient growl and kneading the ground with his front paws. "What gives _them_ the right to keep _us_ waiting? They should be lucky we're even allowing them access here, considering they weren't even born in the Tribe!"

"Hold your tongue!" snarled Leap, glaring angrily at the tom. "They both have given more to the Tribe than you yourself ever did!"

Fall bristled at her scathing tone, but Claw stepped between them. "That's enough," he snapped. He looked at the other tom. "You know as well as the rest of us that they have more than earned their places in the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Crossing the realm between StarClan and here is not a quick, easy feat, Fall. We must be patient."

The blue-gray tom muttered something rude under his breath, but both Leap and Claw pretended not to hear him.

As if on cue, two incredibly bright stars appeared in the sky and, with a flash, two cats stood side by side a few tail-lengths from the three original ones. Claw had to blink multiple times before the bright spots faded from his vision.

"I'll never get used to that," grumbled Fall.

The cats standing together could not have been more opposite of the three ancient spirits. Stars coated their fur and sparkled on their paws; with every step they took, they left a trail of starlight in their wake. And, unlike Leap, Fall, and Claw, their pelts were completely opaque and solid looking. One would have guessed they were alive, had it not been from the soulful wisdom in their eyes and the shifting light on their glimmering pelts.

One, a silver tabby she-cat dipped her head and waved her plumy tail. "Hello again!" she meowed, her voice high and light.

"Greetings, Feathertail, Stormfur," Leap mewed, flicking her ear. Her voice lost some of its raggedness as she gazed at the brother and sister. "How are your Clans fairing?"

Stormfur purred softly. "There is a period of peace at the lake, at last," he informed, amber eyes glowing.

"How excellent!"

"And how's the Tribe?" Worry was etched on every feature of Feathertail's expression. Even the dimmest cat would have noticed the terror scent that rolled off the pelts of the three, how they couldn't quite erase the despair from their eyes. "You've called us for a reason, I assume?"

"Not good," Claw admitted, green eyes giving away just how concerned he was. "Prey has been especially scarce this season. I fear once the next time of frozen water comes along, there will be nothing left to hunt."

"Not only that," Fall added, for once leaving the condescending tone from his words, "but there's a new threat coming to the Tribe; one that none of us ever dared to dream of."

Stormfur cocked his broad head. "Not another Sharptooth?"

Leap let out a low hiss. "Unfortunately, this is not something that we can see or physically fight off."

"Well then what is it?" Feathertail asked, slightly exasperated.

"The Ancients have spoken to me," the dark gray she-cat explained haltingly. "They've told me that the next time of frozen water to come will be the last one we ever have."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that after the next time of frozen water, that's all the Tribe and the rest of the mountains will ever experience. There will no longer be a time of freed water, or a time of shortened sun."

"So instead of three seasons…" Stormfur murmured.

"There will only be one," finished Feathertail, eyes wide with dismay. "This is horrible! The Tribe barely survives as is, and that's when there's only one time of frozen water for five moons! Is there any way to stop it from happening?"

Claw shook his head, ears pressed flat against his skull. "We have sent a message to StarClan through Jayfeather, but we have heard nothing in return. Without their help, there is no hope for the Tribe's survival."

At this, Leap spoke up. Her voice was so quiet; the other four almost didn't hear her. "There is a way it could be stopped."

Fall and Claw swung their heads around to gape at her, stunned expressions on their features. "_What?_" they shouted in unison.

"And why is this the first time we have heard anything about this?" Fall demanded. "You had us thinking that our Tribemates were going to die!"

"I never said it would work," she snapped, defensive. "The Ancients spoke with me just before we all came here tonight. I have barely had time to process it and what it might mean, or even if it is possible, for that matter!"

Stormfur unsheathed his claws and raked them against the ground, eyes burning with amber fire. "If it means the salvation of the Tribe, we will make _sure_ it works."

"Please," Feathertail begged, "what did the Ancients say?"

Leap exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. It seemed as if her whole body sagged with the weight of the Tribe's fate, like a boulder on her back. She examined her paws, the sight of their sheerness tugging at her heart. She returned her attention to the younger cats in front of her, scolding herself for getting distracted. _There are more important things to be thinking about than how much time you have left,_ she admonished herself.

"Well?" Fall prompted.

The gray she-cat cleared her throat and answered, "Our ancestors called me to them tonight and told me that they have found a solution to the Great Freeze. However, when I asked what it was, they wouldn't tell me."

Claw blinked. "What do you mean they wouldn't tell you?"

Leap shrugged. "They wouldn't go into detail of just what exactly it was, only that it would involve one of the cats from the Tribe of Rushing Water."

"Who?" wondered Feathertail. "Stoneteller?"

"That ancient cat?" Fall scoffed. "He's old, blind, and hardly ever leaves the Cave of Pointed Stones anymore!"

Claw cuffed him on the head. "You really need to learn to shut up," he growled, green eyes flashing.

"If it's not Stoneteller, who would it be?" Stormfur gave his chest fur a few thoughtful licks. "Sky, perhaps? Or Perch?"

"No, no, no." Leap shook her narrow head. "Apparently the one to save the Tribe is supposed to be born tonight."

Claw glanced at her, stunned. "You're telling us the fate of the mountains rests on the shoulders of a _kit?_"

"A kit is not a kit forever, Claw," she stated sharply. "The Ancients told me it would be born tonight, that we would know it when we saw it."

Fall peered up at the darkening sky. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as something clicked in his mind. "Cloud is kitting tonight!" he cried, turning to the others.

"Cloud?" Stormfur echoed.

Leap stared at him, dozens of thoughts whirling in her head as the pieces slowly came together to make sense. "Cloud that Floats in Sky is the daughter of Dusk that Fall Slowly," she began slowly. "He's the son of Pine that Clings to Rock-"

"_My_ son!" gasped Stormfur.

Leap nodded solemnly. "This kit will be kin of your kin."

"It'll be born in the Tribe, but have the blood of the Clans in its veins," whispered Feathertail. "However faint it may be."

Fall shook his head in disbelief. "It's like the tribe isn't even pure anymore," he grumbled.

"What did you say?" snarled Stormfur, rounding on the blue-gray tom. His long fur lifted along his spine and his hackles began to rise. "You'd be wise to remember that this is _my_ kin that's saving _your_ Tribe, Fall; not the other way around."

For once, Fall appeared guilty of the harsh words that had left his tongue. He dropped his yellow eyes to the ground, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Feathertail brushed her tail down her brother's back, smoothing the ruffled fur. "Peace, Stormfur," she murmured. "This is not a time for petty quarrels." The large gray tom wore a look on his face that said he clearly disagreed, but he relaxed his aggressive stance anyway.

"And the Ancients didn't give any other clue as to what this solution is?" Claw's green eyes were narrowed and vaguely annoyed.

Leap shook her head. "They only said the kit would be born tonight at moonhigh, when the moon is full and yellow in its belly. That is all I know."

"So what do we do now?" breathed Feathertail.

A beat passed as all five of the spirits considered her unnerving question. After a few heartbeats, they could only come up with one answer.

"We wait?" Fall repeated, looking quite irritated at having to test his slim amount of patience yet again.

Leap gazed at the intimidating sky once more and nodded once. "We wait."

0o0o0

The large black tom paced the floor of the cave, his long legs eating up the ground. His paws were white as snow and his blue eyes focused intently on the huge dead tree, which jutted out over other rocks and whose gnarled roots resembled giant claws, a few tail-lengths from where he stalked. His ears were pricked for the slightest hint of a sound from inside the hole of the tree, his fur fluffed up against the cold breeze that flowed from the mouth of the cave.

Worry clawed at his heart like a falcon picking its prey: _Why hadn't he heard anything?_ His mind raced with the endless possibilities of what could have happened and he abruptly shook his head to erase the terrible thoughts.

A pale tabby tom sat watching him, posture straight and striped tail wrapped around his paws. His long wispy fur was ruffled, making him appear almost twice his usual size. "You're going to wake up the rest of the Tribe with your ceaseless pacing, Wing," he commented casually.

Wing of Feathered Eagle halted just long enough to throw a peeved glance at the other tom. "I'd like to see you sit still while your mate was kitting!" he retorted.

Perch of Snowy Owl let out a soft _mrr_ow of laughter. "This is the exact reason why I never want to have kits. You're driving yourself mad with your anxiety! Cloud is not the first kit-mother to ever have given birth, you know."

"I know that, Perch," Wing muttered, lashing his black tail back and forth as he continued his relentless pacing. "You just don't understand how scared I am that something's going to go wrong."

Perch rolled his green eyes. "You fail to remember that Cloud is my sister as much as she is your mate," he pointed out. "I, however, choose to be optimistic about this situation and not a depressing beetle-brain like you."

Wing spun around, eyes wide and frantic. "She could _die_, Perch!" he cried, slicing his claws against the stone floor so that a soft _zing _sounded. "It happens all the time!"

All humor escaped the cave-guard's expression as he grew serious at his friend's words. He rose to his paws and padded over to the tom, butting his head against Wing's shoulder. "She's going to be fine," he meowed reassuringly. "Flight is with her, and she has Leaf for support. What happens now is out of our power; no use getting gray hairs on our muzzles over something beyond our control."

Wing sighed and plopped down hard on his haunches, looking worn out and tired. "She barely has any meat on her bones, though," he whispered, his voice aching. "I've done so many extra hunting parties just so she could have more caught-prey but it hasn't been enough."

Perch gazed around the Cave of Rushing Water, his eyes roaming over his Tribemates asleep in their nests of feathers, struggling to preserve what little warmth they could. He then examined himself, noting the ribs poking out from beneath his tabby pelt. "We have all suffered this time of frozen water," he mewed quietly. "There is never enough prey during this season for every one of us to be full at the same time."

They sat together listening to the pounding waterfall outside the cave for a few moments before he added, "My sister is a strong she-cat, Wing. It'll take more than a few kits to make her join the Tribe of Endless Hunting." Wing nodded, grateful for his friend's words.

Suddenly, there came a shrill wail from inside the Tree Rock and the two toms jumped. Wing leapt to his paws and made to go inside when Perch's tail stopped him. The black prey-hunter glared at him.

"I need to see if she's alright!" he snapped.

"Toms are not allowed inside during the kitting, Wing. You know this."

Wing groaned and slumped down onto the ice-cold cave floor. "This is agonizing…"

Perch let out a rumbling purr that reverberated through his stocky frame. "Don't let the she-cats hear you say that," he meowed lightly. "They'll rant about how we 'don't know agony 'til we've kitted' until you'll want to claw your own ears off!"

Wing let out a huff of laughter. "That's true."

The two toms continued their low conversation until a slender golden and white she-cat poked her head out from inside the hollow. Her amber eyes were bright and warm as she mewed, "Wing, come meet your new kits."

Not needing any more prompting, the black tom leapt to his paws and dashed into the Tree Rock, while Perch rushed towards the Cave of Pointed Stones to alert Stoneteller. Wing entered the warm den and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim yellow moonlight that peeked through a small hole at the top of the tree.

A pale gray tabby she-cat lay on her side in a bed of feathers, flanks heaving up and down in steady breaths as she gazed lovingly at the two tiny kits that suckled at her stomach. A heavily pregnant creamy brown she-cat crouched beside her, her expression soft as she looked at the kit-mother. He hurried over, careful not to step on anyone's tail.

"Cloud?"

The gray she-cat lifted her head and purred loudly when she caught sight of her mate. "Oh, Wing," she breathed, stretching out a paw towards him. "Aren't they perfect?"

Wing nuzzled her and turned his attention to his new kits. Both were toms, though that was about the only thing they had in common. One, the much bigger of the two, had inherited his father's deep russet and black colored pelt and white paws. The other was a lithe silver tabby who resembled his mother, though Wing could see traces of himself in the kit's narrow-shaped head and its slightly-too-big ears.

"They're beautiful," he whispered, bending down to give each of his sons a lick. "What shall we name them?"

Cloud rested her tail on the dark furred kit and answered, "This one will be Fir that Breaks the Wind, because of this Tree Rock that has kept us all warm. And this one," she pointed to the silver tabby, "will be Song of the Falling Falcon."

Wing tilted his head curiously. "A bit of an unusual name, isn't it?"

Cloud shrugged. "He was the last to be born and as soon as he came out, I heard the cry of a lonely falcon outside the Cave of Rushing Water."

"She was the only one who seemed to hear it though," Leaf of Twisted Branch, the pregnant brown she-cat, admitted.

Flight of Golden Lark shook her head, amused. "I'm surprised anyone could hear anything over Cloud's wailing and your babbling." The golden and white she-cat's tone was teasing and good-natured.

"Let me through!" a gruff, raspy voice interrupted. "Everyone who isn't a parent of these kits, leave now before we all suffocate in here!"

Leaf glanced sympathetically at Cloud. "Good luck with that crazy old tom," she murmured before following Flight back out into the camp.

A small tomcat with a matted gray pelt shoved his way into the hollow, a bundle of herbs under his chin. His blind amber eyes instantly flickered to where Cloud lay and he padded towards her with an ease that never failed to amaze any of the Tribe cats. He placed the herbs gently on the ground and instantly began to question Cloud.

"Are you experiencing any pain?"

"Not much."

"Any discomfort in your sides?"

"Nope."

"Any-" Teller of the Pointed Stones broke off unexpectedly.

Wing and Cloud exchanged a bewildered glance. "Stoneteller?" the black tom asked, confused. "Are you alright?"

Ignoring the tom's concern, Stoneteller bent down and peered at the two kits as if he could actually see them. "How strange…" he murmured, sniffing the two bundles of fur.

"Excuse me?"

His eyes flickered up at the two parents. "What are their names?" he demanded urgently.

Startled at his tone, Cloud stammered out the names of her kits. "Stoneteller, is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" He shook his small gray head and twitched his whiskers dismissively. "Nothing is _wrong,_ Cloud. There's just something about this one…" He place one paw on Song's small silver tabby body; however, he instantly pulled back as if burned. His wide, blind amber eyes stared at the kit, his whole body quivering. "Oh…"

"_What is it?_" Wing all but shouted, beyond the point of exasperation with his Healer's cryptic murmurings.

Stoneteller, of course, ignored him. He cocked his head to the left, as if listening to something only he could hear, as he continued to gaze at the kit. "Such power for someone so small," he whispered. "What a hard path you have to walk, little one." He bent down and touched his nose very gently to Song. "You have a great destiny ahead of you, if you choose to accept it."

After a heartbeat passed, Stoneteller abruptly straightened and backed away from the kits. He swiftly sorted the herbs in front of him and pushed a few blue plants towards a stunned Cloud. "Eat these borage leaves to help with your milk. Fir is going to train as a cave-guard and Song will be a prey-hunter. They both are healthy and will be fine. Goodnight."

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the hollow, leaving two very shocked, very confused parents behind.

0o0o0

"It is decided," Leap meowed quietly to the other four cats around her. "The one that will save us was born at the exact moment the moon reached its peak."

"How many kits are there?" Stormfur asked excitedly, seeming for the moment to forget that one had the fate of the Tribe on his tiny shoulders.

Leap let out a small rusty purr despite the grave mood that hovered over them. "There are two healthy toms, Fir and Song."

Pride gleamed in the StarClan tom's amber eyes. Feathertail twined her tabby tail with her brother's, blue eyes soft and gentle. "Congratulations," she mewed.

"We still don't even know what it is that the Ancients have in store for him," Fall reminded them. "Or even if this is going to work. What if he doesn't accept his destiny?"

Claw shook his head. "Oh, Fall," he sighed, "always so cynical. At least now we have a shred of hope that this next time of frozen water will not be the last of the Tribe."

"We have done all we can for now," Leap declared in finality, rising to her paws and giving her small body a long, quivering stretch. "The rest lies in the paws of the Ancients and the kit. We will guide him when we can, but it is ultimately up to him to figure out his destiny."

The four cats nodded in understanding. Fall heaved himself to his paws and nodded once at the other spirits. "Until we meet again." He turned and padded swiftly away from the group, instantly disappearing with no more than a rustle of the wind.

Feathertail yawned and gave her muzzle a wipe with her paw. "We'd best be going as well," she meowed.

Stormfur nodded in agreement. "We'll talk to the ones in StarClan to see if they've ever heard of something like this, though I'm afraid they won't know much about it."

"Every little bit will help, at this point," replied Claw, green eyes dark with despair.

Leap touched her nose to Feathertail's and then Stormfur's. "Thank you for all that you have done to help us. Where would we be had the Clans not saved us in our times of need?"

Feathertail swallowed and whispered, "I'd rather not think about that."

Stormfur turned to Claw. "Give my love to Brook and my kits, would you? Tell them I'll see them next time I come."

Claw dipped his head. "Of course I will," he assured.

"Good hunting to you both," meowed Leap. "I hope the next time we see each other it'll be on less somber terms."

The two StarClan cats nodded and padded away across the vast, treeless meadow, eventually fading in a burst of blinding light. The two stars that had occupied the menacing sky before were now gone, casting the clearing in the same dusk as before.

Claw cleared his throat and shook out his tabby pelt. "Do you think this kit will save us, Leap?"

The she-cat sighed again, her washed-out eyes showing the exhaustion that came only from moons of existing in the Tribe of Endless Hunting. "I don't know, Claw," she responded. "I really don't know."

Claw accepted this with a nod of his head. "I'd better get going," he meowed. "Splash is waiting for me."

"Tell her I said hello."

"I will."

He dipped his head, waved his tail in farewell, and then he, too, eventually vanished among the night. Leap stood alone in the gloomy clearing, listening to the ominous thunder rumble across the vast sky.

"Oh, ancestors," she pleaded, "please, do not let this be the last of the Tribe. They have suffered more than enough since they've come to the mountains. Please."

She waited, but the only response was a clap of lightning and the rolling, tumbling breeze that she would never feel again.

**So, I know this might be pretty confusing, so I'll explain the terminology.**

**Time of frozen water = winter**

**Time of freed water = spring**

**Time of shortened sun = fall**

**Beetle-brain = idiot**

**Caught-prey = fresh-kill**

**Tree Rock = a tree that is embedded into the mountains, where the kit-mothers usually give birth. (This is not something I made up; it's in the actual Warrior series.)**

**They only have three seasons because they're in the mountains and there's not usually that many seasons that last a long time, you know? The rest of the chapters won't really switch between the Tribe of Rushing Water and the Tribe of Endless Hunting much, unless it is needed. Sorry if the names might confuse you, but the characters will be included in the next chapter :) **

**Please review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter one

**Here's the next chapter! (I bet it's weird seeing me update so quickly, considering the fact that recently I've been waiting like a month before posting another chapter…) I'm not going to post my responses to the reviews I get for the previous chapter like I usually do; I figure I can just as easily reply just to the reviewer. However, if you're a guest, I will respond to you here. **

**-0-0-**

**The Tribe of Rushing Water**

**Tribe-healer:**  
Teller of the Pointed Stones (Stoneteller)-small pale gray tom with blind amber eyes  
**  
Prey Hunters:**  
Dawn Coming Through Sky (Dawn)-creamy brown she-cat with yellow eyes

Wing of Feathered Eagle (Wing)-long furred black tom with white paws and blue eyes

Sky of Fallen Stars (Sky)- lithe white she-cat with blue eyes (deaf in left ear)

Flame of Burning Fire (Flame)-dark ginger tom with wide amber eyes

Feather of Swooping Hawk (Feather)- mottled gray tom with green eyes

Mist of Tumbling Water (Mist)- small dappled brown and silver she-cat with blue eyes

**Cave Guards:**  
Flight of Golden Lark (Flight)-dappled white and golden she-cat with amber eyes

Perch of Snowy Owl (Perch)-large pale tabby tom with a scarred muzzle and green eyes

Breeze that Sparrow Rides(Breeze)-dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Stream that Runs Through Mountain (Stream)-gray speckled tom with clear blue eyes

**Kit-Mothers:**  
Cloud that Floats in Sky (Cloud)-pale gray tabby she-cat with amber eyes (Mother to Wing's kits: Fir that Breaks the Wind (Fir)-dark russet and black tom with white paws, a fluffy tail, and amber eyes; and Song of Falling Falcon (Song)-lithe silver tabby tom with green eyes)

Leaf of Twisted Branch (Leaf)- creamy brown she-cat with warm yellow eyes (Mother to Stream's kits: Ripple of Pebbled Shore (Ripple)-speckled gray and white she-cat with yellow eyes; and Storm that Stalks the Sky (Storm)-large black tom with silver flecks and unusual gray eyes)

**To-Bes:**  
Ray of Peeking Sun (Ray)-golden tabby tom with dark blue eyes (cave-guard)

Stem of Wilted Ivy (Stem)-dark brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes (prey-hunter)

Stone in Rushing Creek (Stone)-white she-cat with one gray ear and clear blue eyes (cave-guard)

**Elders:**  
Shine of Silver Moon (Shine) - very pale gray she-cat with bright blue eyes

Ridge that Climbs Rock (Ridge) - dark brown tabby tom with black paws and green eyes

**Cats outside of the Tribe:**

Eli –small skinny black tom with warm golden eyes

Spark –tortoiseshell she-cat with pale green eyes

**-0-0-**

Song of Falling Falcon jumped lightly across the small stream, careful not to slip into the freezing water and get his paws wet. The current trickled quietly over the pebbles that lay embedded at the bottom, emitting a sound that soothed him. He landed on the other side, blinking his green eyes up at the tall alpine fir trees that surrounded him. Rays of sunlight pierced through the leaves and chased the cold from his bones.

_It's a wonder it never snows here. _The observation lifted his spirits; he absolutely hated having to trek through the ice-cold mush that hadn't yet melted from the ground. Ever since he had opened his eyes almost three moons ago, he would walk out of the Cave of Rushing Water to find that snow had accumulated during the night.

_I don't know how Fir and Ripple like it,_ Song thought, shaking his head in disbelief. _I swear it's like the time of freed water is never going to get here!_

The silver tabby continued padding through the trees, the swift mountain breeze flowing through his fur and bringing with it the sounds of life. Finches and larks conversed from branches, while squirrels scuttled across the ground, their plain gray and brown fur easily blending in with the crisp, dead leaves that crunched under Song's paws. An eagle called out in a piercing whistle-like sound, hidden somewhere in the vast sky. Oh, how he would've loved to catch one and bring it back to feed the Tribe. A bird like that would've easily fed four, maybe even five, cats!

It was a shame it was just a dream.

Song sighed sorrowfully, halting and sitting back on his haunches. He knew it was a dream because whenever he closed his eyes to sleep, this is where he always found himself when he opened them again. He'd been coming here for as long as he could remember and it was always the same: the weather, the trees, the creeks; not that he minded. It was refreshing to be able to get away from the seemingly never-ending cold that currently clutched the mountains in its grasp. With his pelt soaking up the warmth of the bright sun and the tranquility that rested over everything, he could almost imagine this was how living in the Tribe felt when they weren't experiencing a time of frozen water.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp stab in his side. The calm scene before him wavered, growing blurrier the more prodding he felt. His vision grew dark and he groaned as he felt the soft nest of feathers underneath him. He blinked open his eyes and could barely make out the hazy image of his brother standing above him, one large white paw lifted for another poke.

"Whas goin' on?" he slurred, his body threatening to drag him back to sleep.

Fir that Breaks the Wind looked startled for a moment, as if he hadn't been expecting Song to wake up quite so fast. "Cloud told me to wake you up," he explained, amber eyes wide and gleaming.

Song groaned again and rolled over. "Go away."

"Afraid I can't do that, brother," Fir meowed almost merrily. "It's almost sunhigh and you've been sleeping like a rock the whole morning."

Song snapped his eyes open and turned toward the dark russet tom standing over him. "Is it snowing?" he asked.

Fir rolled his eyes and flicked his big, bushy tail. "It's _always_ snowing, Song. Now come on! Wing said he wanted to see us before he left with his hunting party."

At that, Song sprang to his paws and promptly stumbled into his brother, nearly sending them both falling onto the cave floor. Had it not been for Fir's broad shoulder catching him, he would have smacked his face onto stone.

"Thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed at his clumsiness. Fir said nothing, instead leading the way out of the small cave-den and down the multiple stones jutting from the mountain wall until they reached the bottom. Song blinked at the sun shining through the mouth of the Cave of Rushing Water and he scanned the camp before him.

It was more or less empty, given the fact that most hunting parties and cave-guards would have already gone out in search of prey. Shine of Silver Moon and Ridge that Climbs Rock, the two Tribe elders, lay together near a small stagnant pool sharing tongues in the giving of close comfort. Song noticed the caught-prey pile was empty and he glanced away, doing his best to ignore his growling stomach. Since being weaned off of Cloud's milk a moon ago, he and Fir had started eating caught-prey once a day, just like the rest of his Tribemates.

"Song! Fir!"

The two brothers turned at the exact same time to see a long-legged black tom padding toward them. Song's heart lifted at seeing his father's lean frame and those blue eyes that never failed in their gleaming warmness.

Wing stopped before them and gave each of his sons a quick nuzzle. "How are my strong kits today?"

"Never better," Song replied, feeling much more cheerful now that he'd seen his father.

Wing purred and flicked the silver tabby kit with his black tail-tip, then directed his words at both of them. "I don't want you getting Storm and Ripple in any trouble today, you understand?"

Fir made a soft noise of protest. "_I'm_ not the one that gets them into trouble," he stated, sending a pointed look at Song who looked slightly offended.

"Hey! It's not like I bite their tails until they agree to explore with us! It's _their_ decision to always follow us around."

Rolling his eyes, Wing meowed, "Then make sure they don't follow you around again or else Leaf will make sure I never hear the end of it." With that, he gave them each a lick on the tops of their heads and bounded away to where the rest of his hunting party was waiting at the mouth of the Cave.

Once his father had disappeared, Song shook his head. "Why do I always get blamed for everything?"

"Maybe 'cause you're usually the one that comes up with the crazy ideas?"

"They're not _crazy,_ Fir. They're fun."

The dark tom grunted, and Song decided to take that as a sign of agreement.

Suddenly, something-rather some_one_-barreled into him with such force that he staggered and fell onto his side with a hard thump. He could see that Fir, too, had gotten attacked the same way. Song exhaled sharply in pain as a pointy stone dug into his flank.

"Die, Sharptooth!" a speckled gray and white bundle of fur crowed from where she stood on top of him.

"Yeah, you'll never take us alive!" a larger, much darker kit added, pummeling Fir with his hind legs.

Ripple of Pebbled Shore battered at Song's lashing tail, oblivious to the irritated expression on his face. He wriggled a bit and the she-kit let out a squeak as she slid off his flank and landed on the ground. He got to his paws and shook the grit of tiny stones from his pelt.

"Ah! It's alive!" cried Ripple, rearing up on her hinds legs and attempting to bat at him with her tiny paws. Song gently cuffed her on the head so that she fell back down.

"Do you always have to attack us?" he questioned, annoyed.

"We sure do," she mewed, fluffing her fur and trying to growl threateningly. She ended up looking like a small puffy cloud instead. "Right, Storm?"

Storm that Stalks the Sky, who was now struggling to chase Fir's flickering, plumy tail, straightened and nodded. His unusual gray eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Wouldn't you rather, I dunno, chase feathers instead of trying to rip my tail off?"

"Calm down, Song," meowed Fir, gazing warmly at the kits. "They're just having fun."

"Feathers aren't any fun," Storm replied resentfully. "And plus, Leaf doesn't want us outside today."

Ripple licked a dainty paw and ran it over her face. "We're bored," she stated, looking at the two older kits with round yellow eyes.

"If Leaf won't let them out, then Cloud most likely won't let us out either," Song murmured to his brother. Fir nodded, looking a bit disappointed.

A beat passed. "So…" Storm pressed, "What're we gonna do?"

Song sighed heavily, already exhausted from the kits. _I wonder if I was this annoying a moon ago._ "Come on," he muttered, starting to pad in the direction where Shine and Ridge lay.

Ripple and Storm scampered after him joyfully with Fir quietly bringing up the rear. His claws clicked on the smooth cave floor and the sound of his steps couldn't be heard over the tumbling water that raged just outside. He took a deep breath, the iciness piercing his lungs and chasing away the last weak remnants of sleep left in his mind. If there was one thing he liked about this season, it was the brisk air that came with it.

As they got closer to the two elders, Ridge lifted his dark brown head. "Well, now, what're you kits up to this time?" he asked, green eyes suspicious.

"Oh, Ridge, be nice for once," Shine admonished him, turning her bright eyes on them. "What's brought you over to these old bags of bones?"

"We're bored," Ripple repeated simply.

"Would you mind telling a story to occupy these two?" meowed Song, gesturing to the younger kits with a nod.

Ridge sniffed. "What makes you think we wanna tell you anything?"

Shine rolled her eyes and waved her skinny tail, encouraging them to get settled. Once all four kits were comfortable, the old elder tucked her silver paws under her chest. "Now what story would you all like to hear?"

"Sharptooth!"

"We heard that one last time, feather-brain!"

"So?"

"So, it gets old after a while."

"Nu-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

As Ripple opened her mouth to retort, Song quickly suggested, "How about the one with the Clans? Cloud told us that one once a long time ago."

Shine flicked an ear. "You're better at that story," she meowed to Ridge, nudging the dark brown tabby with her shoulder. "Why don't you tell them?"

Ridge glared at the pale gray elder, not amused by the situation. "I'd rather not."

_What's got his fur in a knot?_ wondered Song as his green eyes roamed over the dark tabby. _He's always cranky but never this bad._ He exchanged a glance with Fir and could tell his brother was thinking the same thing.

Shine gave Ridge a narrowed look before turning back to face the kits. "Why don't you kits go find your mothers, huh? Maybe they'll have something more fun for you to do than hang around us old cats all day."

Ripple moaned in frustration and slumped onto the floor. "There's never anything to do in here!"

"At least not when it's snowing," added Song, glancing at the mouth of the Cave with narrowed green eyes.

"So no story?" asked Fir, his amber eyes downcast.

Shine shook her head. "Not today," she replied quietly. Song tilted his head, wondering why the elders were acting so strange recently.

"Go chase a feather or something," Ridge snapped, turning his brown back to them.

Song and Fir looked at each other, knowing they were thinking the same thing: it was going to be a long day.

-0-0-0-

It was sundown when the hunting parties returned. Song and Fir waited eagerly near the opening of the cave, so close the silver tabby could feel the mist of the waterfall coat his pelt while sending icy shivers down his spine. The two brothers sat close together to try and preserve their warmth while they craned their necks to see what the prey-hunters had caught.

"I see them!" Song shouted, jumping up when he caught sight of his Tribemates' mud-coated fur materialize through the roaring water.

"Anything good tonight?" demanded Fir, bushy tail lashing excitedly.

"Hopefully." Having had to resort to mostly chasing feathers for the rest of the day, Song was more than ready to be around cats that could actually leave the Cave of Rushing Water!

His Tribemates padded into the camp, their pelts thick with mud and their jaws clamped around pieces of prey. Song spotted two cats carrying a small heron between them and his mouth watered, his stomach rumbling loudly. Fir sent him a questioning look and his ears flushed with embarrassment.

It was hard to tell who was who under the dried sludge coating each of the cats' pelts, the camouflage working almost too well. However, Song could always tell who was a prey-hunter and who was a cave-guard based on their size alone: the stocky, larger cats were the defenders, and the lither, slimmer ones were the hunters.

"Come on, Song, or we'll miss our meal!" urged Fir, nudging his brother roughly so that Song stumbled forward with a surprised grunt. He glared back at Fir, wishing not for the first time that he was as big as his littermate.

Together they raced toward the middle of the camp where every cat was gathered to eat. They skidded to a halt and waited impatiently while the caught-prey was passed around. Song spotted Stoneteller conversing in heated undertones to one of the cave-guards who, at closer inspection, could be identified as Breeze that Sparrow Rides. The brown tabby tom's yellow eyes were dark, matching the grim expression on Stoneteller's face.

Song butted his shoulder against Fir's and asked quietly, "What do you think they're talking about?"

Fir looked to where he was gesturing and narrowed his amber eyes. "I don't know," he meowed back. "But it probably isn't good."

"Song, Fir!" called a deep voice.

The two kits turned to see a large tom striding towards them. Unable to recognize him, Song scented the air and perked up when he realized who it was. "Perch!" he exclaimed, jumping up and running towards his mother's brother. His front paw caught on a stone jutting out of the cave floor and the silver tabby nearly lost his balance.

"Whoa there, little one!" Perch meowed, stretching out a broad paw to steady him.

Song righted himself and looked at his paws. "Sorry," he muttered, cursing his clumsiness. Why could he never keep his balance, especially around the cats he wanted to impress? _Some prey-hunter I'm gonna make,_ he thought bitterly.

Perch shook his head, green eyes gleaming. "Nothing to be sorry for, little one. So, what'd you two do today?"

"We chased feathers," answered Fir, sliding up beside Song. "We wanted the elders to tell us a story about the Clans but Ridge was too grumpy."

"Ridge is always grumpy," the tabby tom whispered, whiskers twitching in amusement.

"Did you have any trouble with those rogues?" Fir questioned excitedly, bushy tail lashing eagerly back and forth. Song shivered at the thought of the lone cats that lived on the edge of the Tribe's territory. From what he'd heard from his mother and the elders, they weren't exactly the nicest bunch to deal with. _Especially_ during the time of frozen water.

"No, thank the ancestors." Perch sighed heavily, sitting back a little on his haunches.

"Oh." Song could tell his brother was disappointed. Since Fir was going to train to be a cave-guard when they reached eight moons, he was always keen to hear about any battle or quarrels the Tribe was having.

The mud-coated cave-guard gazed at the russet kit, his eyes neutral and steady. "Don't forget there is more to being a cave-guard than fighting, Fir."

"I know."

Before any of them could say anything more, Cloud padded up to them, a slightly scrawny finch in her mouth. Ripple and Storm were on her heels, their eyes focused on the prey. The gray tabby she-cat set the dead bird down on the ground and pushed it towards her kits. "Here you go little ones."

Not waiting a moment longer, Song grabbed the finch and took a small bite, closing his eyes. It might have been stringy and tough but after having to wait so long to eat, it tasted delicious to him. Still chewing, he nudged it towards Fir who took a mouthful and then passed it to Ripple.

Cloud gave Song a nuzzle, her amber eyes sparkling. "Looks like someone was hungry," she purred.

Song nodded feverishly. He looked around and realized that his mother and Perch both were not eating. He cocked his head; his rather large ears made him look a bit funny. "Why don't you have any caught-prey? Aren't you hungry too?"

Perch glanced up from licking the mud off his pelt and exchanged a look with Cloud. "Not as hungry as you four and the elders are," he responded carefully.

Storm pushed the already half-eaten finch towards Song and the silver tabby gazed at it for a moment and then scanned around the camp. Ridge and Shine sat sharing a thrush with each other while the three young To-Bes shared the heron Song had seen being carried in from before. Other than that, however, it didn't look like anyone else was eating.

_There must not be enough caught-prey tonight_, thought Song sadly. It always seemed like someone was going hungry every night and he wished more than anything that that wasn't the case.

"Eat, Song," Cloud commanded gently.

Feeling slightly guilty, the silver tabby bent his head and took another bite. Despite the fact his conscience told him it was wrong, he couldn't help but feel a sliver of selfish gratitude that he, at least, was able to eat.

Storm, Ripple, and Fir started talking to each other while Perch and Cloud murmured in hushed tones. Song chewed his prey slowly, wanting to savor it as much as he could. Who knew if there would be enough food tomorrow night? He shivered as a sharp breeze cut through the mouth of the Cave. His bones were almost always numb from the constant cold in spite of his relatively thick fur and he couldn't stand it.

_I hope the time of freed water is better._ The voices of his brother and denmates faded into the background as he envisioned the place he always went in his dreams. Hope flickered inside of him as he imagined the warm sun chasing away the frost and snow and bringing prey back to the mountains; his Tribemates would finally go to sleep with full stomachs.

_Anything is better than this,_ Song thought as he looked around at skinny cats in the Cave. _It has to be. _

**A kind of boring chapter but alas, it must be done. Remember, Tribe kits have to wait until they're 8 moons old before they can start training. But don't worry; I'm going to speed it up a bit :) Please review! I wish to hear your opinions!**


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